


If Only in My Dreams

by Icefire9atla



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Whouffaldi SS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 06:44:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5529839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icefire9atla/pseuds/Icefire9atla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's dreaming.  So why does it feel so real?</p><p>Post-hell bent.  A fix-it fic (sorta).</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Only in My Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Christmas Present for deadclaras, as a part of the whouffaldi secret santa exchange. Merry Christmas!

If Only in My Dreams

  
“Clara.” He murmurs. God she loves the way he says her name.

  
Undeniable recognition is in his eyes as he breaks out into a run toward her. ‘This has to be a dream; this is too good to be true’. Clara thinks.  
And then she remembers, of course this is a dream. She drifted off while meditating, and now she’s dreaming of seeing the Doctor again.

  
At least she can be thankful that the world doesn’t fade away before the Doctor can pick her up in his arms and crush her in a hug. Clara can’t help the tears as she clings to him. She’s wanted this for so long… even though she knows this is fake it feels so real.

  
He sets her down, but neither of them lets go. There are a thousand things she wants to say ‘I miss you.’ ‘I love you’ are perhaps the most obvious, but instead she says “This is a dream.”

  
The Doctor smiles sadly “I know. I’ll wake up and forget you.” His hand caresses her cheek tenderly, even as Clara frowns.

  
“I’m pretty sure that I’m the one who’s dreaming, not you.” She says ‘pretty sure’ because her life is very strange.

  
The Doctor smiles, a genuine smile this time, as he says “Yes boss.”

  
Clara wakes up.

  
\-----

  
“So tell me, Clara, if you’re so convinced this is a dream, how are you dreaming? You shouldn’t be able to sleep.” The Doctor asks her when she falls into the dream the next night.

  
“I’m meditating. Spending 8 hours a night alone is enough to drive anyone mad. Especially when-” She pauses “I can’t stop thinking about you.”  
The Doctor doesn’t seem to know how to respond.

  
Clara continues on “Doctor, if you’re so certain you’re dreaming about me, then how come the Time Lords haven’t found me yet through your memories?”

  
“I forget you when I wake up. It all just slips away… like a dream.” He smirks ironically “I know I dream about you, and I know what we say, but it’s just like everything else. What you look like, sound like…” He trails off.

  
“I’m sorry.” Clara says, because she feels like she has to.

  
“So am I.”

  
\-----

  
“What if we’re both dreaming?” Clara asks him the next time they meet.

  
It wouldn’t be the first time she’s been in a shared dream state. Hell, it wouldn’t even be the second time. The Doctor’s expression as he tries to quash the sudden rush of hope twists her heart. “It’s possible.”

  
His eyebrows furrow and she knows he’s working on the problem. Finally, he asks “Do you think you can remember a set of space-time coordinates?”

  
\-----

  
The location is mundane, a park bench in the slow paced town of Leadworth.

  
She leaves a book, 101 Places to See.

  
She comes back later to find the book missing. In its place is a single toy soldier.

  
\-----

  
The next time they meet, Clara drops all pretense and throws herself at him. The Doctor catches her in a hug and spins her around. Even after he sets her down she can’t let him go.

  
It all crashes into her at once. The feel of his velvety jacket, the smell of him, the sound of his hearts beating: it’s all real, it’s really him. She’s crying hot tears as she burrows her face into his chest. Distantly, she hears the Doctor repeating ‘Clara, my Clara.’ like a prayer.

  
Clara draws back suddenly, and then pulls the Doctor down to her level. He’s pinning her with a confused stare.

  
“Doctor… can I kiss you?” Clara well remembers the promises they exchanged in the cloister, but she also realizes that the Doctor is very sensitive to touch. She doesn’t want to force something like this on him without warning.

  
The Doctor doesn’t say anything; he merely nods, regarding her with wide eyes. She’s reminded of when she awoke from their final dream on Christmas. He asked her to run away with him, and she’d almost kissed him properly. But she hesitated at the last minute, kissing him on the cheek instead.

  
She wasn’t going to miss another opportunity. They owed it to each other and themselves to make the most of this gift.

  
The Doctor freezes up instinctively when she brings her lips to his. She’s patient as he gets over the shock, knowing that he just needs time to get used to the new situation and react... and react he does.

  
Her mind short circuits. The Doctor has both immense passion and great experience, enough to make her knees buckle and her toes curl. Enough to sweep away her entire thought process as they lost themselves in each other.

  
They stay lip locked for much longer than humanly possible. Clara doesn’t need to breathe and the Doctor can hold his breath for much longer than a human. When they finally do part, Clara is satisfied to see him breathless. It’s a look she loves on him.

  
She’s smiles giddily at him and he echoes her sentiment, pressing his forehead tenderly to hers. She raises her hand to cup his cheek when-  
Clara wakes up.

  
She almost howls in frustration as she does so. The only thing that stops her is noticing that Ashildr is leaning against the doorway to her room.

  
“Was wondering where you got off to.” Ashildr says flippantly. Was it just her imagination, or did she emphasize ‘got off’?

  
“I was meditating.” Clara tells her firmly; the accusation of breaking her concentration implied.

  
“It must have been an incredibly nice experience.” Ashildr smirks. Clara didn’t know if it was possible to blush in her frozen state, but it certainly feels like she is.

  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Clara denies.

  
She’s good liar, but perhaps she’s having an off day because Ashildr continues “Give the Doctor my best wishes, the next time you see him.” Ashildr walks away, but Clara isn’t ready to let her go that easily.

  
“How could you possibly know that?” Clara demands, following her.

  
“Ever since we’ve started travelling together, you’ve been moping around whenever you had a spare moment. A few days ago, your mood turned around completely. Yesterday, you were practically dancing around the console room. There was really only thing that could explain it.” Ashildr explains flatly.

  
Perhaps she had been a bit obvious.

  
\-----

  
“I figured out how this is happening.” The Doctor tells her the next time they meet.

  
“Try to use normal words this time.” Clara teases, standing on the tips of her toes to taste his lips. She withdraws, but he follows her.

  
“You’re distracting me.” The Doctor says between kisses.

  
“You’re one to talk. With your accent, and guitar, and cleverness. You have no idea how many times you drove me to distraction.”

  
“Seriously?” The Doctor looks so surprised that Clara can’t help but smile fondly.

  
“Idiot. Of course I’m serious. Now shut up and kiss me.”

  
Later, much later, when they’re cuddled together on a loveseat, the Doctor explains.

  
“Time travel has always been possible in dreams, but there needs to be some sort of link to make it possible. Our timelines- they’re entwined.” He explains “Even though we’ve been separated, our time streams can’t be; they’re still in synch.”

  
“You make it sound like we’re like soulmates.” Clara teases. She’d always thought that soulmates were a silly concept, something out of a fairy tale. Then again, maybe her life is a bit like a fairy tale.

  
“If that’s what you want to call it.” He says.

  
“What would you call it?” She asks.

  
“Most of the time, I don’t think I have the words.”.

  
Clara kisses him, and then says “We don’t need the words, actions speak louder than words.”

  
Actions like splitting herself into thousands of pieces, sacrificing herself to save him. Like her begging a distant race of people on her knees to save him. Like him spending four and a half billion years in his own personal hell just for the chance to see her again.

  
“Always right, you.” The Doctor smiles. She kisses him again, just because. They stay like that for a while longer, simply enjoying the presence of the other.  
Eventually, Clara feels the dream slipping away from her. She’s getting better at holding her concentration, staying longer, but she isn’t all the way there yet.

  
“I’m leaving.” She tells him apologetically, as the scenery fades around her, leaving just him.

  
“I’ll be seeing you Clara Oswald.”


End file.
